Credit for Capricorn
by Sword Pen
Summary: Capricorn wants: an evil laugh. Gains: a credit card? Set before Inhkheart, slightly random. Also featuring Dusty, Basta, and random assorted black jackets. Everyon is OOC, including me! Rating for mild language.
1. Just a Little Respect

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Geoffrey Rush, Pirates of the Carribean (I just had to slip it in), or MasterCard. All things Inky belong to Cornelia Funke.

**A/N:** Nah, the world's not ending, I've just decided to go funny. Hey, come back! Bomb shelters are entirely unnecessary! Yeah, tis is random, and probably not very good, but please R&R, anyway!

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On the whole, Capricorn was happy with his life as terror of the country side, most supremely evil villain of several worlds, etc. But this sense of contentment (as much as he could be contented with such a miniscule amount of money!) was not to last. (Duh duh duh!) 

One day gloating over his large collection of stolen DVDs (he couldn't remember exactly _who _he had stolen them from, but that was trivial), he discovered something that greatly disturbed him.

"People are easier to search when they're dead," said Geoffrey Rush from the screen. Capricorn laughed, the person whose home he had burned down to get this had good taste.

He clapped a hand over his mouth. His laugh was creepily high-pitched and rusty sounding; he'd been expecting something more along the lines of "mwah ha ha ha" etc.

One of his minions was looking at him uneasily from the doorway. He quivered under Capricorn's colorless, but highly effective glare.

"What do you want?"

"Urgent meeting, sir," the boy stammered.

"What the hell do you mean 'urgent meeting'? I call the urgent meetings!" he roared.

"The raiding party you sent out is back, sir," the boy squeaked.

Capricorn straightened up a little. This must be the raiding party he had sent twenty miles away, the one that was supposed to make him a hundred thousand dollars richer.

He sighed. He wasn't exactly inclined to abandon his vintage wine, state of the art DVD player, and red fluffy slippers for a mere hundred thousand dollars, but he got up anyway. Better to get it over with.

OoOoo

"What the hell do you mean they don't take me seriously because the think my name's funny!" he bellowed at his men. He was starting to wonder if all this shouting was holding his evil laugh back.

_I really _do _need an evil laugh,_ he thought. Insane maniacs with killer evil laughs were _always_ taken seriously. Even if they did have weird names…

"Well, look on the bright side, at least you weren't born under Virgo!" Flatnose chortled, interrupting Capricorn's Dark Brooding. Insolent fool. Would he never learn not to mess with his master's Dark Brooding?

"Lock him in the crypt!" Capricorn roared, almost turning scarlet with rage. Almost… but not quite.

Nobody moved.

"Well, you heard me! Basta! Where's my rabid dog when I need him!"

"Who me? Go _there_? Basta's face was almost as pale as Capricorn's. Almost… but not quite.

Capricorn rolled his eyes. People wondered why he never tried to teach his minions to read.

"Yes _there_, unless you want the position of evil sidekick to be filled by someone who will not be dead if he doesn't obey me in three quarters of a second."

Basta nearly fell over his feet in his haste to obey. That was nothing new.

Capricorn heard a strangled noise in the corner. He squinted into the conveniently ominous and sinister shadows in the depths of his evil headquarters.

Dustfinger, the useful, but mildly annoying pyromaniac, was choking on barely concealed laughter. Capricorn decided not to worry about that. It was _certainly _nothing new.

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**A/N: **I put the money in dollars, since it was easier that way. Please don't get mad at me for the "mildly annoying" comment about Dusty. I am a huge FanGirl of his, and I think it's cute when he annoys Basta and co. The credit card comes in in the next chappie. 


	2. The Heinous Crime of Fun

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Tele Tubbies, MasterCard, Capricorn, Basta, or Darling Dustbunny.

**A/N: **Just below this story, there is a little blue button. His name is "Go". Click him. It makes him happy. :)

**Dedication:** To my wonderful reviewers: **Saer, InuSessyYaoiGirl, BeB, -'-Blueberrys-Are-Special-'-, Duckweed, Bastakils, and PrettyInPink16**. Please review again!

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**The Heinous Crime of Fun**

Capricorn had been doing a lot of Dark Brooding, lately.

With Flatnose gone it was mercifully… quiet. And Basta seemed to be in no hurry to fetch him, so Capricorn just left him in the dark. Which wasn't a new experience for Flatnose, actually…

Capricorn had let it be known that he was brushing up on his diabolical plotting, but really, he was just watching Tele Tubbies. Same thing really…

_Knock! Knock! Knockknockknockknock! _Whoever was assaulting his door sounded like they were having fun. Capricorn strode across the room, contemplating possible torture combinations for the heinous crime of fun.

"Mail, my lord." If Basta was surprised to find his master standing there in a fluffy red bathrobe looking murderous, he didn't show it. It wasn't a new experience for him, actually…

Capricorn forgot all about torture.

"Mail!" he roared. "Who the hell sends mail to the devil's own domain?"

Basta was still standing in the hall. What was he expecting, a pat on the head?

Capricorn was tempted to find out what would happen if he said: "sit, down, roll over", but he didn't want to break the rhythm of his demonic rage. If he knew he was committing the heinous crime of fun, he didn't show it.

"Make yourself useful and get me something sedating, alcoholic, and illegal!" he told his minion. Well, at least having an army of Black Jackets at his command was still good for something…

While he waited, he leafed through the mail. Perhaps he could find a good store to steal some new red, fluffy slippers from…

He ended up setting most of it aside for Dustfinger to burn. Then, he could punish the fire eater for the heinous crime of fun, and commit the crime himself at the same time. Capricorn loved being a criminal.

OoOOo

Punishing Dustfinger randomly was fun: A. Because Sword Pen thought he was hotter than all Black Jackets combined and B. She had written two whole paragraphs about him when the story was supposed to be about CAPRICORN!

I would continue obsessing over Dustfinger, but there's a really creepy guy with a torch outside my window…

OoOooO

Back to the story…

Capricorn set all the mail aside… except the last envelope.

"Need Credit?" it advertised.

Capricorn nodded, forgetting that the envelope was an inanimate object.

Of course, the Black Jackets did all the dirty work, but surely the evil mastermind deserved all the credit? Of course he did.

He turned the envelope over, looking for an opening. Damned twenty-first century paper goods…

This side looked much the same, except that it read: "There are some things money can't buy. For everything else, there's MasterCard."

Capricorn began to get more and more excited. Forgetting that he had declared fun a heinous crime ten minutes ago, he began to skip awkwardly around the room.

Maybe a little respect was one of those things money could buy! Maybe, with this credit card, he could strike fear into the hearts of all!

MwahhahSQUEAK! That rusty laugh again, breaking his diabolical groove.

"Go away, Basta. I'm busy," he snapped to his minion who was standing uncertainly in the doorway. Capricorn wrestled with the envelope. Perhaps he should hire a paper goods maker. They seemed to have twisted minds…

He handed it to his rabid dog. "Slit this open with your knife!" he ordered.

"Yes, master." Basta turned the envelope right-side-up and opened it neatly with his finger. If he was surprised to see a credit card, he didn't show it.

Capricorn grinned broadly. He could feel the good mood coming on, already. "Now, what was it you wanted to see me about?" he asked.

"There's a traveling salesman here to see you."

Capricorn stopped in mid-giggle. So much for respect.

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**A/N:** Yes, I do have an obsession with the heinous crime of fun. Writing is fun! Yay! I will probably end up with two more chappies. Next up: "Of Hot Soup and Traveling Salesmen". 


	3. Of Hot Soup & Traveling Salesmen

**Disclaimer:** I would claim to own these people, but the creepy guy with the torch is still outside my window… The red fluffy slippers and Modern-Shakespearean English are mine! Sadly, Phantom of the Opera is not.

**Dedication:** To Flamebug and Duckweed, my first responders review-wise. And to Puppyelf, who finally has an account! Use it to review me. :)

**A/N: **I'd tell you a joke, but I'm too lazy to change the rating. :) On with the story…

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Breath… Breath… I think I cracked myself up with the last chappie…. Making Basta scared, confused, creeped out… It's all fun! 

But today's chappie isn't about fun…

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**Of Hot Soup and Traveling Salesmen**

"No! How many times do I have to tell you? Torture him, _and then_ kill him!"

Yet again, Capricorn was patiently explaining the simple facts of life to his minions.

This time, an anxious outsider watched well… anxiously.

"I sell evil laugh potion," he offered.

"Quiet thou yap, foul beast," snapped one of the Black Jackets, listening with intense concentration to Capricorn's puzzling monologue.

"To whom doth thou speaketh the name of 'foul beast'?" inquired the salesman. "Methinks I had takeneth a bath yesterday…"

Capricorn was at the point of throwing his hands up and running dramatically form the stage… I mean square.

If anyone was surprised to be speaking fluent Modern-Shakespearean English in the middle of Italy, they didn't show it.

The foreigner mentioned evil laugh potion again. Couldn't he just SHUT UP?

"Whoever else the devil bargains with, he does not bargain with traveling salesmen!" Capricorn shouted, voice hoarse. "Unless, of course, they're paper goods makers… Better to have them on your side…"

Wandering away, Capricorn reminded himself never to tell that the real reason he wanted all copies of Inkheart burned was that its pages were so _sharp_.

No, it would simply not do to be seen protecting society. No one would ever respect that kind of villain.

Speaking of respect, a group of his maids were giggling, he had an uncomfortable feeling about the subject…

Resa looked as if she would die with laughter.

So what if his red fluffy slippers were shaped like bunnies?

_Aarrgh!!_ _Even the mute are laughing at me!_ He rushed back to the salesman who, thanks to his early efforts, was being tortured and not killed.

"Do you take credit?"

OoOOoo

"Maybe you're trying too hard." Basta was looking at his master with concern.

Capricorn, himself, blue in the face, and coughing, was much to busy to notice.

"Nonsense! I will get my money's worth out of this potion if it's the last thing I do!"

Basta thought it best not to mention that Capricorn hadn't actually paid any money for the potion.

Instead, he said, "I'm sure you would laugh if you let me torture Dustfinger," for about the hundredth time.

A highly irate Dustfinger took this opportunity to throw a black cat in his enemy's path and push a ladder over on his head.

Resa glanced at him incredulously.

"What?" he shrugged. "How else was I supposed to get him under a ladder?"

Capricorn stared down at his unconscious sidekick. How he got fangirls…

Sighing, the evil villain made his way toward his lair, massaging his throat. He really needed some hot soup. Maybe his mother could make some.

He'd just have to ask for poison testing, first…

Trudging up to his house, Capricorn thought he heard… laughter.

Despite his increasing sore throat, he began to sing "Music of the Night" at the top of his lungs.

Then, Sword Pen decided that she couldn't bear to hear him butchering Erik's solo…

Anywho, if anyone was surprised to see Inkheart's esteemed villain running up the path singing "Wheels on the Bus" at the top of his lungs, they didn't show it.

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**A/N: **Ah, Dustfinger/Resa! I couldn't resist. Blame Duckweed, who I was PM-ing when I realized how to put Resa in. 


End file.
